A Dream Aloud
by ArlecchiNin
Summary: Because no Love is good under an average society standard. Because no Love was just this selfish like ours is. But it is Love, isn't it?


**A Dream Aloud**

**Summary:** Because no Love is good under an average society standard. Because no Love was just this selfish like ours is. But it is Love, isn't it?

**Disclaimer:** They belong to each other and Kishi-sama.

**Warning:** Pitiful inner turmoil, lemmon inside –well, sort of.

**Notes:** A pretty belated welcoming fixie for Rave14!

Welcome to FanFiction, cupcake. Cheers from SasuIta and ItaSasu fans united ^^

Enjoy yourselves!

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"_Will you lend yourself to beauty that will horrify?  
Let me hide within your black, the still inside your eyes  
Deafened, caught within a cry  
So sensual, as step by step by step, I __separate  
As breath to breath, as I... __suffocate…"_

I heard the church bells ringing with jingling and welcoming sounds when I arrived home on Saturday. It had been a hell of a week. It was very cold and dull when you looked at the sky staring back at you in your own mood. The classes heart-breaking. The opposite sex completely annoying and trying with such furious intent of convincing myself otherwise that I almost felt my feelings crumbling to pieces. As if it ever had been easy for me to choose rather this than that.

Nobody was waiting for me when I entered the empty and silent hall in dying agony. I was all out of a sudden missing Dad complaining about my homework, missing Mom coming up to look out for me and every single movement I've made, I make and I'll make later. My daily cup, my daily lunch, my daily family schedule.

How horrid it sounds now! I mustn't have been such a hideous and rejecting son. Now all those days had been left behind in a bitter past. I hated it when people watched over me. It had always been that way. I hated it. I hate it. I loathe there presences snickering around my little and secret world where I want to hide from all their voyeur and paranoid gazes and their bullet-proof trustworthy convictions.

I slipped myself on my bed. I couldn't sit it, I couldn't stand it. I just was there lying, bleeding without splatter, without wounds or scars, staining nothing but my useless existence.

I wanted to cry but I couldn't. I couldn't force the tears that had no reason to come out of these soulless pair of ebony eyes.

Kakashi-sensei was my instructor, he kept my routine tight and fit, as much as possible to get the best of me. He wanted me to evolve to some kind of ideal student –but I've actually had the impression that he was pulling his hairs to bald point just because he craved for me to be the one to achieve his own personal goals. I had no interest in it.

Sakura was a persistent girl that chased after me every forty-five minutes. In between classes, in the cafeteria, during long breaks, teacher's absences, change of building, change of classroom –she knew it all about it. And she was a brilliant student, one of the highlights spotted by the most honorable teachers in our school just like in other schools where she had participated so eagerly and with impressive results.

She was brilliant, a shining star, glittering, shimmering light. She couldn't see through the blur and deep down into my darkness. Does that make you better than the others? If you hurt others at your own ignorance of not having known the true nature that dwells inside your peers? Guess not. And I'm tired of her obnoxious attacks at getting me to realize she doesn't have a clue of a heart.

Also, I have a friend with whom I share most of my classes. He's pretty the hyper and the average troublemaker to most of the people. They have this popular belief that he can go shouting and screaming and getting unharmed out of it. Truth is he's a depressed child that is strong enough to pull off that infamous mask of his plastered smile. I truly appreciate his company and he is very protective of me.

Once he has confessed his love for me. I didn't accept his suggestion and tried to cut him before things got worse between us. I really like him. He's plain and sincere with me and I trust him…a lot. Yet, the pain that's killing me it's cut too deep down that I have shut the lock myself and swallowed the key through my own slinky throat.

_I love him._

The days pass, the nights grow, the days fade into bloodshot horizons and I still love him. I miss him and I love him.

My everyday crumbles into shreds of nothing but white paper scribbled with those harmonic and beautiful traces of his own handwriting. Yes, he writes me letters. Plenty of them. Since he's gone forever he's always written us to keep in touch. Just the lame excuse of saying "I'm fine" it was enough for our parents to force him to write once a week.

He feels he has nothing to say and I know that. He feels he has nothing to say but to spill fluidly those lonely journeys he spends without us somewhere. Somewhere unknown to me because he had never took it too seriously to describe us the geography of the place, the features of the people, their names, the hours, the time that slowly whisks away into a sudden nothing…Lost. Completely lost and that is never coming back again to be found.

I close my eyes, some tears pour down. I scream in silence through my dreams, in between tales of loss and misery, among all those words I always meant to say to him, with all my affection, without being a reminiscent past that won't turn around to see the sunbeams embellishing the pot over his windowsill, or the sweet smell of dew drops playing gently on the green leaves of our garden vegetation.

Dreams that tempt me when I'm fully awake. Nightmares that approach me when I'm soundly asleep. I felt my body relax under his touch as taking swept off my feet just by some marvelous fantasy. Almost compelling Itachi to do me this.

"Nii-san…" that's all I muttered repeatedly.

My bedroom door opened with a muffled sound. He was there to haunt me with touches that will horrify this act of beauty I was so fond of. It's all a cradle of impossibilities among the wide world of the possibilities. All the glitter of dreams swept in the shadows. We have no chances of surviving it because we are already living it.

He drew closer to my bed spot. I just shook my head and kept lying there. At his mercy. Why do we always come to realize we have submitted to our feelings when we _know_ we can't back away anymore? And I knew I would leave stain because I bled and gushed forth.

I turned my back to him.

I knew what was the next thing your older brother usually does: he lectures you or punches you for being offensive and a discontent –for not saying a jerk of– little brother. And Itachi would ever do that? No. In fact, I was counting on it.

Who had you welcomed at my own abode? I don't eat such a humble pie and you knew that.

He had been sitting on my bed for a while now when he slowly got up and walked towards my slouched silhouette. And all of a sudden, he pinned me on the bed, nibbling the soft spot in my neck. I moaned, I wanted to cry out aloud. Gripping tightly onto his shoulders.

I was so aroused and he knew it. He was teasing me because I wanted him to tease me. I wanted him to treat me as his lover not his brother –not his foolish little brother. I craved for the physical contact anxiously. Above all things, I wanted him to touch me. It was a meek gesture of me –if you want to take it that lightly.

They don't understand. When I refuse a hug is not because I'm a sore ass but because I hysterically long for someone else's hug. My Nii-san's loving embrace. His scent under my nostrils, the glossy and silky hair softly brushing against mine.

I was on top of him now, I had him caught by his manly wrists, I wanted him so bad. I opened his legs and knotted them on my back.

He noticed it with a shiver as he stroked my hair and nuzzled my nose with his:

"Sasuke…You don't have to be impatient. I'm not going anywhere…"

"Not now maybe. Maybe later. Maybe the next fifteen minutes," tears rolled down my face. I couldn't contain my anger. I wasn't angry with him but with myself for being so weak.

I always broke down, my nerves reaching the edge and collapsing through the cliff. I couldn't handle the fact that he –little by little– was vanishing against that drifting and unreachable horizon.

"I love you" I say pushing him away from me and failing at that stupid attempt of trying to separate myself from the man I love the most in the world.

"Why would you keep hurting yourself like this?"

"You don't understand…let it go" I fight violently, he looks at me with a pair of fierce eyes.

"Certainly, I will never feel the same way you do about things moving, crawling and stopping around you, Sasuke. But I can love you as much as you want me to for I truly do love you. Even if you can't relate it to that scorched expression of love you offer me everytime I come looking for your well-being" he says. He hurts me with his sharp words. He has never done that before.

He's tired. He looks at me with that haggard face of his, the bags grow longer and dig deeper in his softly tanned skin.

He's tired of being rejected. He's tired of me setting these stupid scenes. But I can't be sincere with myself less I can be sincere with him. And yes, the more the less I can be sincere with anyone else.

"I love you" I repeat. This time my voice cracks up because of the teardrops that keep coming profusely.

We are sitting in front of each other. His features so dim but at the same time no gesture seems to escape from my vision. He looks sad. He looks sad and angry at himself just like I do.

We are almost inexistent-inches apart. He reaches out for my chin and lifting it he kisses me on the lips. He kisses the tears and goes back to my lips resting his onto mines, wearing out the slight touch. He licks my lower lip and I don't dare to move. I'm not crying anymore. He licks my upper lip and I utter a sigh in response. Alleviated. He feels alleviated too I can tell.

I open my mouth and he slides inside. I taste his tongue with mine in my moist cavern. He explores and dances around in erotic flutter. I somehow start to despise how good he makes me feel. It feels so selfish.

I pull him by the collar of his shirt –a not-very-wise movement– asking for more. Who will follow you if no one abides himself to take the lead? It's a dance, dizzy, confusing, a moment of flawless joy when you forget every single thing that ever meant only harm to you. And I share this dance with you.

I'm lost in the stillness of that glance where I'm reflected in ectasy. You keep the motions, heading south just to realize this far that I've already scattered all our clothes on the ground. Your skin shines an eerie glow where I manage to leave a trace of ghost kisses with suicidal harmony. Because it's like there's no other end but this one.

And if I could choose, this one would be the perfect one. I won't refuse that.

I continue my ministrations, smooth skin crawling back and forth under my starving mouth. Your arms harshly wrapped around my bucking hips, your body tenses under my deeds and you arch your back. You and I are beyond grasp.

I unsuccessfully try to disguise a whimper of pleasure coming out from my mouth when one of your hands starts a slow promenade directly to my crotch. I stiff a groan and plead for more. You rub the tip of my manhood while pressing our bodies together. It feels amazing that I can only carry out your name out of my chest, screamed at the top of my lungs.

"Make love to me, Sasuke. You know how much I love you already."

He ruins it with his statements, they sting, they sting like bees and not a in a butterfly wave. You scratch the ripples of my own consciousness, you trigger down to flicker such excitement.

I stroke at waist point your legs, your throbbing erection and head through your entrance. You never dared to submit like this, you were always controlling me and somehow –regaining my composure again– I enjoyed it. Because when you control me you don't treat me like some social tool without a use, you offer me your everything at hand and feet. I am the very center of the world towards which all gravitation turns around and keeps going round and round.

With some effort I pull you up face to face with me. You look at me quizzically.

"Change of heart?"

"My heart will never change. My dream does. When I sleep, I see you in my nightmares. When I'm awake, I see you through the shade of my dreams."

"And all the poetic fuss goes to…?"

"I'm not sure anymore if I'm believing to live it or living it for real."

"Does it make it any different?" he asked, cupping my cheek with affection.

"You tell me" I stumble trying to sound worried and stern –all at the same time.

"Yes, it does. You live it like a dream when it's real and you dream it like a nightmare when I'm not here anymore. Is that confusing this love?" he mumbles the last part as if for himself and not for me.

I don't answer. I don't have an answer to that. I can't either defend myself from this and neither justify myself because of it.

"I love you" I don't speak those words but they seem to fit perfectly when it comes to express my feelings towards Itachi. It's just the way I feel. I just love him. That's all.

"_Make love to me"_ when he proffered that simple command I didn't thought it may mean this much. It is not about control or giving in, it's about opening yourself up, maybe?

He smiles, he offers me what I want, he does. And so did I.

I opened his legs, one, two, three fingers scissoring through his tight entrance. He grips my shoulders forcefully and in the meantime I slide inside. Moving like when you pushed me in the wind and the swings accompanied the movement. Merry features like when your face has happiness printed like a sudden snapshot. Your heart beating fast, your lips pronouncing my name so neatly, your perspiration painting my skin in tremble colors and scents.

I take care of your own erection into my hands meanwhile you push me on the bed without stopping the thrusts. Your nails dug hard into my hair when we both reach the climax. Your found prostate and your manhood wrapped around my fingers. You stay so near and I can't wait to close the distance.

Our bed of passionate red roses scuffing the wood floor.

He caresses me gently, kissing me deeply, I almost can feel the pleasure reaching the climax in my whole breathing system.

That's why I like it when he kisses me. It feels as if he was filling me up with fresh air. He's bringing me back to life, to live without all my dark thoughts and selfish worries.

He keeps kissing me a little more. We don't run out of air, we are exploding of oxygen over saturation. Even though it's flushing my cheeks to bloody scarlet but I don't care.

We pull apart at the same time, breathing heavily trying to grab all the oxygen molecules we've stolen from each other. It's the same kind of breath, it's almost the same kind of blood, it's the same kind of heart or not –but our feelings are the same and that comforts me for now.

~Fin*

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**Final notes:** Yeppers, messing with words is a drug. In hopes you liked it! n.n


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